


Playful in our youth

by zinjadu



Series: Wed to Blight [23]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Holding Hands, Party commentary, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-21 15:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18705463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: Caitwyn Tabris has a mad idea on how to get better elevation in a fight.  But it doesn't go well and invites commentary from the rest of the crew (because what doesn't invite commentary?).  And yet, there's another little relationship milestone that takes place under everyone's noses.Just some unimportant cuteness I couldn't resist.





	Playful in our youth

“Again,” Sten commanded.  Caitwyn nodded and returned to her starting point of several paces distant.  Alistair adjusted his shield and stood at the ready. Digging her heels into the dust, she breathed out slowly.  Her armor was a familiar weight by now, but it made their attempt to do this difficult. However, if it was going to work in a fight, she had to learn how to do this in her amor.

At least Sten had said she could set her bow aside for the time being.

She caught Alistair’s eye across the meadow, and he nodded, shifting his posture and bracing.  Caitwyn launched herself forward, her small but strong legs taking quick, precise strides. The distance closed fast, but she needed to be going faster.  Gritting her teeth, she lowered her head and pushed past the burning in her legs and backside, and the part of that was a Warden unfolded from behind her stomach and sent a pulse of life back into her legs.  

One step, another step, she raised her leg and Alistair crouched, placing his shield out for her.  Her booted foot struck center this time, and Alistair stood and launched her skyward with all the force he could muster.  For a single, perfect moment, Caitwyn flew through the air, her braid trailing out behind her like a comet’s tail.

The pull of the earth could not be denied however, and she twisted, trying to turn herself around to land on her feet, but something was wrong.  She spun in a tight corkscrew, but off center and couldn’t correct her angle. 

“I’ve got you!” Alistair cried.  Caitwyn tucked her body and let herself go as limp as possible.  For a split second she was a child again, learning to leap across the rooftops of Denerim in her bare feet.   _ What if I fall Mama?  _ she had asked.  Her mother had tapped her nose and smiled,  _ Don’t worry, little shadow, I will catch you _ .

She crashed into Alistair in a clatter and rattle of armor, her whole body jarring at the impact.  Her jaw clicked shut, and it was only good luck that kept her from biting her tongue. Alistair staggered with a pained grunt, thrown off balance by the force of even her light build, and they pitched over.  The ground rose up to meet her as she tumbled out of Alistair’s armored arms. Her right leg twinged, and her ribs ached with every breath, but she raised herself up to her hands and crawled to inspect Alistair’s injuries.  He sat shaking his head, as if to clear his vision, and he blinked up at her, a little wild behind his eyes and his hair sticking up every which way.

“You alright?” he asked, voice high and thready.

“I am, I am, are you?”  It was still difficult to get her breath, and she winced as she scooted next to him.  

“Yeah, yeah, was just, um.  You looked like you were going to come down badly.  Sorry if I hurt you.”

“Better falling into you than the ground.  You  _ bend _ .  Ground doesn’t.”

“Indeed,” Sten intoned as he stood over them, his long shadow stretching out behind him.  “This attempt, however, showed more promise—”

“Promise?” a dry voice broke into the proceedings.  Caitwyn turned to see Morrigan regarding them all a cool, evaluative gaze.  “What promise would that be, qunari? The promise of breaking Caitwyn’s neck?”  The witch turned her head and looked down at Caitwyn, who still had not recovered enough to stand.  “This is foolish, and the tactical advantage would be miniscule.”

“I disagree,” Sten said, folding his arms over his broad chest.  “However, there is more work to be done. Alistair, you twisted your shoulder as you raised your shield.  Do not do that. Caitwyn, you did not keep yourself centered, and you reacted poorly to being off course. If you are ever to shoot at an enemy while airborne you will need to right yourself with greater speed.”

“What is this?  A new and interesting way to kill people?  My dear Warden, I am somewhat hurt that you did not include me.”  Zevran sauntered into the conversation with Leliana walking beside him.

“The truth is, we heard a shout and wondered if something was the matter,” Leliana said, nudging Zevran in the ribs.  The Antivan’s grin only grew wider, and Caitwyn was keenly aware of just how many people were now witness to her mad idea.

“Truly?  If that is the case, you were rather lax in your investigations,” Morrigan drawled.

“If I rush them, I think I can buy you time to escape.”  Alistair’s voice just barely reached her ears, and she glanced over at him.  His warm hazel eyes danced with amusement, and his lips twitched up in an attempt to not smile.  Her heart quickened in her chest, but she shook her head.

“You believe I do not exercise enough care?” Leliana asked.

“I was here,” Sten rumbled.  “I would not see the Warden harmed.”

“Warden _ s _ , Sten,” Zevran scolded lightly.  “I believe there two of them, yes?  Unless we have lost one. But no, there they are.”

“I won’t hear the end of this no matter what.  Might as well face it,” Caitwyn whispered under the bickering going on above their heads.  Alistair held out his hand, an offer to help her stand and nothing more intended, but she hesitated.  The reason for her hesitation registered with him after a moment and a blush crept across his freckled cheeks.  Caitwyn licked her lips, but slid her smaller hand into his larger one. Before, when they had only been friends, she had noticed the calluses on his palms, the strength of his grip, but now.  Now his strong fingers held her hand as gently as he might hold a wild bird and a tingle shot up her arm through her chest, making her stomach flip over. She ran her thumb across the backs of his knuckles, and he swallowed heavily.  

Then he inhaled deeply and stood, hauling her to her feet with him.  They both winced at the movement, and Caitwyn wondered if she wanted to face Wynn to get a little healing for herself.  Regretfully she let her hand fall away from his and turned to face her judges.

“Alright, alright, I know it's a mad, fool notion,” she said, holding both her hands up and breaking into the general melange of disagreement.  “But shooting from an elevated position  _ is _ an advantage.  Just wanted to find a way to do that on level ground.”

Morrigan curled her lip and waved her hand imperiously.  “There are ways to achieve that without risking death. Could you not surmount the golem?”

“I am not a statue to be clambered over!” Shale objected from its spot at the edge of camp, its hearing terribly acute.  Morrigan only huffed and stalked away once it was clear no one was willing to hear her out on the matter.

“Hm,” Leliana hummed, as though mulling over something.  She kept her head low, eyes somewhat downcast as if she was not certain she was allowed to speak to Caitwyn again, and Caitwyn’s chest clenched at the way the other woman almost cringed.  She’d never wanted someone to feel like  _ that _ around her.

“You have some advice, Leliana?  Being trained with a bow and all?” she asked.  Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Alistair brightening, hoping she was finally making amends with the bard.  Maybe she was.

“I shall certainly think of some!”

“And I have some ideas myself, Caitwyn.  Perhaps you could refrain from leaping about so much, yes?  Regardless of what the witch thinks, we are going to be entering a mountainous region soon, and as such, well.  The image of you flying over the edge of a cliff is less than appealing.”

“Hm, I’m going to have to agree with that,” Alistair muttered, his eyes going wide at the thought.  Caitwyn shrugged, but didn’t feel like telling them that she had been running rooftops since she could walk on her own.  Likely they would say it wasn’t the same, but heights had never bothered her.

“Fine, we won’t practice when we get into the Frostbacks.  I promise,” she said, and Zevran and Leliana seemed to accept that as enough.  When they had left, however, she glanced up at Sten and grinned. “But we aren’t  _ in _ the Frostbacks yet.”

Sten’s stony face barely changed expression, but there was a crinkling about the eyes and the barest upturn of his mouth.  Alistair slumped his shoulders and groaned.

“I should’ve known,” Alistair grumbled.

“You really should’ve,” Caitwyn told him, nudging him with her shoulder.  However, this close, her hand found his again, that jolt once again making her stomach tumble, and squeezed a silent entreaty.  He sighed, but squeezed back.

“Alright, you win.  Let’s try it again,” he agreed and picked his shield back up.  

“This will work, Wardens.  I know it.”

“And if it doesn’t, its funny when we get hurt, right?”

“I do not find Caitwyn’s injury amusing, Alistair.”

“Right,” Alistair drawled and resumed his stance.  “I see how it goes.” A bright, effervescent grin lit across Caitwyn’s face, and she traipsed back to her starting line.

“You can do this, Caitwyn,” she whispered to herself.  She could do this.

Sten eyed their positions, and spoke in a low voice to Alistair for several moments, and her fellow Warden nodded and shifted his shield ever so slightly.  Then the giant stood tall and once more said, “Again!”


End file.
